Miss Independent, Volumes 1 - 4

by Kiki Leach

  She tightened her hand around the knob and slammed the door shut behind her.

  A fuming Nikki viciously chucked her opened purse against it and screamed out, “PENDEJA!” just as everything inside the purse scattered to the floor. She smacked her hands against her hips and harshly exhaled. “Bitch.” When she noticed her phone on the floor, she suddenly thought of the last time she spoke to Oscar and what he said about his wife’s refusal to sign the divorce papers. Then she rushed forward and snatched that phone up as fast as she could, and started dialing a number she forced herself to memorize long ago. One she never thought she would actually have to use, until now.

  It only rang once.

  “I know that this is probably earlier than you would’ve liked for me to call, if at all,” she said to the person on the other end, who had no chance to respond before answering. “But I really need to see you. It’s important.”

  After agreeing to meet with the person in Central Park in less than an hour, Nikki grabbed up every item she owned from the floor and scurried out the house.

  Part Seventeen

  Across town, a hangover-free Vanessa was on her way to work earlier than originally planned – with her purse and sketches for the new layout of the magazine in one hand and a bottle of orange juice in the other – in the hopes of getting her mind off of last night’s events, when she received a call from the last person she not only expected to hear from, but never wanted to hear from so damn early in the morning: Nathan.

  After reluctantly taking the call, he told her that despite being given the chance by the police just a few hours before to bail himself out of jail, he had no way of doing so because he had apparently lost his wallet at some point, either on the way to her house or during the actual scuffle. And he had no plans to let his parents or anyone else know his current whereabouts – especially Sheila – therefore, he had no one else to help get him out.

  Exasperated, she threw her purse and sketches to the ground and grabbed her head, which started throbbing hard against her skull the moment she realized he called her as his only hope. “Shit.”

  “Sorry V,” he said, though she was certain that he wasn’t sorry at all. “But it’s not like I had a lot of other options here.”

  “What the hell do you expect me to do for you, Nathan?”

  “Find my wallet,” he said. “Or at least come down here and bail me out yourself.”

  “Why the hell would I waste time in bailing you out when I’m the one who put you there in the first place? And for a damn good reason.”

  “Because you regret doing it,” he replied. “It might’ve been for a damn good reason last night, but it’s not anymore. Besides, Sheila’s probably worried about me by now. You know that I haven’t seen or spoken to her since--”

  “You left, yeah, so you said last night.”

  “Yeah. And I need to get back to her to straighten some things out.”

  “Nathan, do you honestly think after leaving her high and dry to troll the city like some migrant with no home, that she’s gonna give a single ounce of a damn about seeing you now? Staying in there would actually be your best bet!”

  “V!” he hollered. She pulled the phone back as his voice boomed inside her ear. “I’m not spending another night inside this hell hole.”

  As he continued babbling on about feeling paranoid in being locked up too long inside a box by himself, Vanessa stuffed her sketches beneath her arm and reached deep into her purse to yank out his wallet. She looked at it for a few minutes, ran her fingers back and forth across those embroidered letters and peeked inside of it just to see how much cash he was actually working with.

  “A few grand,” she mumbled to herself. “Hm.”

  She wondered while staring down at the various hundred dollar bills filling up each slot if taking that wallet down to him would actually be a better idea than the one she originally had of tossing it into the Hudson.

  When he wouldn’t stop talking about himself and whatever lie he had planned to tell Sheila and his boss, Mr. Gallagher, about his face once he got out, she finally interrupted out of pure frustration and annoyance, and told him that she would be down there later in the evening to bring him the wallet. She had no time that morning to listen to any more of what he had to say, nor did she have any desire to see him roaming the streets so early in the day before she was ready. And contrary to his own belief, aside from making sure that he wasn’t suffering from some kind of concussion due to all the blows he took to the head the night before, he wasn’t truly that much of her concern.

  She did however keep her ongoing concern about Maurice and his well-being. But when she tried to slip in a quick question about him, Nathan mumbled something to himself that she couldn’t quite understand and quickly hung up the phone. Actually, he slammed the phone down a few times on a desk first, which sent a hard drumming sound through the speaker.

  “Asshole,” Vanessa muttered while tossing her cell back inside her purse. She stuck her finger deep inside her ear and wiggled it around to get rid of the harsh ringing sound that seemed to be traveling up toward her brain. Then she threw her hair behind her and glanced to the right, and noticed a trashcan just a few feet away from another building.

  Clutching that wallet between her forefinger and thumb, she looked down at it, then over at the trashcan a few times before walking over and hovering that square piece of leather just a few inches over the edge.

  And she contemplated.

  Would he really miss this? How much would it actually hurt to leave him in there for just one more day, and maybe even another after that to get my entire point across to him?

  She was certain that just one night behind bars while being forced to sleep on a dirty cot and think about the shit he continued to pull since being back in the city was barely enough to do any real damage or jolt him back to the reality of every situation surrounding him. She was right when she told Sheila that she didn’t have that black magic to fix him. And it was clear after their conversation that he had no plans to fix himself either.

  So it was decided. She was going to toss the wallet into the trash where she felt it belonged amongst the rest of the garbage since she couldn’t seem to toss him in there instead like she wanted.

  But first…

  Maybe I should take out the money and give it to someone who really needs it.

  She dug around for the bills and stuffed them inside her purse near the sketches. Then she raised it over the can again. After a deep breath and inhaling the fumes of funk, she thought even further.

  Maybe I should swipe his ID too. And the credit cards in case somebody tries to steal his shit. He’s an asshole, but he doesn’t really deserve that, does he? But isn’t that what I want to happen so that he learns a lesson in how to treat people? Shouldn’t I let that happen so that he realizes that he can’t go around acting like an asshole to just any and every one he comes across? Especially the very people he claims to care about? It’d serve him right. Right?

  When she realized she was thinking too damn hard about how actually dumping the wallet and everything left inside of it would affect him more than not, she stopped and took a few steps back to regather herself.

  Then asked aloud, “What the fuck am I doing?”

  It was in that very moment that she was starting to wonder if she was actually losing her mind, or had already lost it somewhere between home and the office over a month ago – around the same time she and Maurice had in fact decided to take a break, or call it quits. She wasn’t even exactly sure what it all meant between them anymore – especially after last night –if she ever was, since what happened was so unconventional and abrupt.

  After dropping Nathan’s wallet and remaining contents of it back into her purse, and shaking every thought of them from her head, she drew in a quick breath, blew it out harshly and headed for the office.

  But while crossing the street and looking both ways, she saw a man standing in front of a new pop-up produce ma
rket located directly at the corner near the old newsstand. He was drinking back a cup of coffee and irritably checking his watch as if he was waiting for someone to show; or waiting to get the hell out of dodge in case they did at any moment.

  Vanessa only caught a glimpse of his profile, but his height and stature, not to mention his hair and entire wardrobe, looked oddly familiar to her.

  Almost too familiar.

  As she ducked her head and squint, she raised a hand over her brows to get a better look at him without the glare of the sun. “Mo?” she called out. But when he didn’t completely turn around in the direction of her voice, she thought it might have just been wishful thinking on her end, or at the very least that her eyes were playing a cruel joke on her already warped as hell mind.

  When a cabbie honked at her in the street, gesturing for her to move out of the line of traffic, she gave him a quick wave which slyly turned into flashing her middle finger, and hopped to the sidewalk. Figuring she was mistaken about the man, she continued toward the office building. But when he finally spun on his heels, turning back at the sound of a woman who hollered in agony after nearly falling out of her cab, she stopped dead in her tracks.

  It was him, alright – the love of her life, bruises and all, just as she had initially suspected.

  Her breath became shaky with every inhale and exhale through her nose and out between her lips. All she wanted was to be back in his space right then, holding, kissing, touching, feeling, caressing, comforting.

  But then she started to wonder while gazing and daydreaming when and how the hell he had managed to bail himself out of jail. And why didn’t he contact her the minute he got out? Part of her couldn’t help but assume that he might have still been pissed about what she did in having him locked up in the first place. Even if he deserved it as much as Nathan, she didn’t plan on him staying in there for too long and would’ve gotten him out herself had it come down to it.

  But the other part that was so sure he still wanted her, especially after last night, couldn’t seem to wrap around the fact that he would’ve rather spent time walking around the city alone instead of bothering to be with her, even then. That’s something Nathan would’ve done, and did do to Sheila, which is how they all ended up in the mess that happened in the first place. Disappearing after being released from custody sure as hell wasn’t something Maurice would pull, not with her.

  Then again, in all the years they had even known each other, let alone been friends, he had never really been pissed at her before, not like this.

  She thought about leaving him alone to possibly wallow or at least cool off before bombarding him with a multitude of questions including when, where, why and how.

  But when she caught a glimpse of Melanie of all people from the corner of her eye, sauntering forward from around the other side of the shop and gleefully handing Maurice a bag of fruit along with a newspaper, she stopped again. This time, to keep herself from sprinting forward and tossing Melanie down to the ground where she felt she belonged.

  “Son of a bitch.” Her breath hitched and she nearly choked on the air clouding her throat. “What the fuck is this shit?” she snapped. A passerby gave her a strange look but she rolled her eyes and shook her head, waving them along.

  Continuing forward, she almost stopped when she heard Melanie giggling and saw her leaning into Maurice while apparently showing him something on her cell phone, or down her blouse. He didn’t appear to be all that interested in whatever the hell it was, which was somewhat of a relief to her, but it sure as hell didn’t cure the fury bubbling up from her stomach to her chest.

  “Such a thirsty bitch.”

  As soon as she approached, instead of calling either of them out by name, Vanessa cleared her throat. Maurice whipped around the very second he heard her voice and attempted a smile. Up close, she was able to get a better look at the dark circles that had formed around his eyes thanks to the punches delivered by Nathan, as well as his swollen cheek and the black and blue knuckles on each hand.

  As Melanie followed, she gave Vanessa a telling smirk which resulted in her tossing visual daggers in both of their directions. But she kept her main focus on Maurice. He was her priority, as always.

  When he brought his coffee just a little bit closer to his chest, he realized Vanessa wasn’t smiling and lowered his head. “Hey, V,” he said in a low voice.

  “Hi,” she shot back. Her tone was unsympathetic and challenging. She waved her hand back and forth between him and Melanie and leaned her head. “You mind if I ask what the hell is going on? And more than that, what the hell you’re doing out of jail?”

  “You wanted me to stay locked up?” he asked.

  “What?” she responded, both flustered and confused at his question. “No--”

  “Then you’re not happy to see me?”

  “Of course I’m happy to see you, Mo, but that’s not the point.”

  “It isn’t?” He took a sip of coffee to hide his pleasure at her annoyance.

  “No, it isn’t. I want to know how the hell you managed to get out when Nathan’s still locked up.”

  The moment his rival’s name escaped from between the lips of the woman he loved more than his own life, his pleasure at her anger turned to fury of his own, and he glowered. “How the hell do you know he’s still locked up in there, Vanessa?”

  “Because he just called and asked if I could come down there to bail him out.”

  Maurice moved his head side to side and turned away. He wanted to put his fist through something that couldn’t punch him back this time, but couldn’t find anything worthy enough to unleash his anger.

  “Son of a bitch--” he spewed between his teeth. “I should’ve knocked that asshole’s teeth clear out of his mouth when I had the chance.”

  “Yeah, that would’ve been real smart.” Vanessa sighed. “Look, he didn’t say anything about you not being down there with him and that was only a few minutes ago, so when the hell did you get out?

  He breathed in deep and sniffed. “A few hours ago, with some help.”

  “Who’s?”

  “Um, good morning, Vanessa,” Melanie finally piped in. “I’m here too.” She waved a hand in front of Vanessa’s face and brought her coffee up to her lips, taking a long sip.

  Hope the liquid scolds your tongue, thought Vanessa while sneering at her.

  Melanie’s high pitched voice was bad enough, but hearing it so early in the morning while watching her stand next Maurice as if she were his new woman just made Vanessa want to rip out her entire vocal box. And then some.

  “I see you quite clearly, Miss Thing, however I wasn’t speaking to you,” she replied. Then she stopped and turned her entire body toward Melanie while folding her arms. “But now that I am, I’d like to know what the hell you’re doing here with him.”

  She brought her coffee down from her lips and nervously chortled. “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me. Like I said the last time you came to my office, I am sorry that you and Oscar are splitting up, really. But do you honestly think it’s a smart idea for you to continue hanging out with another man like this before the papers are even signed? And how do you think he’d feel about it being so public?”

  “Not that it’s any of your business, Vanessa, but why don’t you start with asking him if I’m okay in seeing him out and about with Nikki?”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” she asked, sincerely puzzled. “Those two haven’t been seen out together, let alone been anywhere near each other since we got back from the Hamptons.”

  She leaned in. “When is the last time you’ve actually spoken to your so-called friend, V?”

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but I speak to her quite frequently.”

  “Then you should try asking her about who and what she does when she’s not around her current Sugar Daddy. My husband left me to be with her the minute we got back to town, and considering he’s not hanging around my doorstep and beggin
g me to let him back inside for good to be with our family, I have a pretty good idea of where he’s been spending most of his nights when it’s not cleaning up at The Bean or overseeing the project for his new shop down here, which is just where we” – she nodded toward Maurice – “were headed.”

  Melanie slung her arm around Maurice’s and held tight while attempting to move past Vanessa.

  But she wasn’t having it.

  “Hold up.” Vanessa held up her hand and shoved Melanie back in place.

  Stunned, she released Maurice’s arm and sat her coffee down on the counter. “What the hell is your problem?”

  “You and that snide as hell, uncalled for bullshit arrogance you’ve got going are my problem, and have been for months now. Just in case you were unaware.”

  “I wasn’t,” she grumbled while wiping down the drops of coffee from her shirt and skirt.

  “Good. Now you can go on and do whatever the hell you want inside that Crust O Crap taking up space in an otherwise classy building, but he stays.”

  Melanie looked up at Maurice with soft, glassy eyes and rested her hand on his arm. Vanessa had the urge to swat her away like a gnat, but tried keeping her cool.

  “I really need to get down there to check on a few things before the area starts getting too busy.”

  Maurice turned to a fuming Vanessa, then nodded at Melanie. “Yeah, you should give us a few minutes and I’ll be down there in a second.”

  “Okay.” She nodded and bypassed Vanessa, gently bumping her against the arm.

  Vanessa whipped around and watched her stroll down the sidewalk, all the while struggling to wiggle an ass that didn’t exist, before entering the building. “That bitch has been asking for it for a long ass time now and if she keeps pushing the wrong buttons with me, she’s gonna damn well get it. I don’t care if my mother thinks I made a mistake and wants her back on the cover to ‘tell her story for women everywhere’. There is no way in hell that I’m gonna let that happen. Not with her acting the way she’s been and certainly not with her sniffing up YOUR ass like some thirsty as hell--”